


Eyes of Blue and Witches Brew

by SleepySsnail



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Autumn, Bartender Keith, Bartenders, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Clubbing, Dancing, Drinking, Fae & Fairies, Fairy Allura, Falling In Love, Gay Shiro (Voltron), Happy Ending, Human Hunk (Voltron), Human Lance (Voltron), Kissing, Lance (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Misunderstandings, Monster Nightclub, Monsters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Shiro is oblivious, Touching, Vampires, Werewolf, Werewolf Keith (Voltron), Werewolf Shiro (Voltron), Witch Lance (Voltron), Witches, bartender Shiro, lance is oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 17:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21285785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepySsnail/pseuds/SleepySsnail
Summary: A monster nightclub seemed like a cool idea to Lance, especially since everyone dressed up and stuck to their character. So it only makes sense that Lance take on the role of a witch and flirt with the werewolf bartender. What could possibly go wrong? With bartenders whose eyes glow, drinks that look like witches' cauldrons, and vampires who drink blood filled bloody mary's, Lance has no idea what he's getting into.Or: Lance walks into a nightclub for monsters and has no idea everyone is actually a monster.
Relationships: Lance/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 251
Collections: Haunted VLD Exchange 2019





	Eyes of Blue and Witches Brew

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlueLionWrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueLionWrites/gifts).

> I had so much fun writing this for Bluelionwrites for the VLD Haunted exchange! I hope you enjoy this and I was so excited to write some shance for this exchange!

If Lance had any common sense, he’d turn around right now and go home, make some of his favorite sleepy time tea, and watch a documentary about dolphins. But his curiosity ran higher than any sense he had and before Lance knew it, he was inside the nightclub surrounded by dancing bodies and flashing lights.

When Lance caught wind of the hidden nightclub, he had been interested and wanted to know why it hadn’t shown up when he tried googling it for directions. Even more interestingly, almost nobody Lance knew heard of the club either, making it a bigger mystery. So of course Lance made it his goal to find the mystery nightclub, even going so far as to enlist Pidge and Hunk’s help despite their disdain for the establishments.

While Hunk didn’t like the noise, lights, or general atmosphere of bars, Pidge was too young and made it clear she preferred staying home to play videogames instead of dancing. But they had humored Lance’s curiosity and helped him look around until Pidge texted Lance with an address and a simple comment of, “You owe me.”

But now that Lance was here, he wasn’t sure if this was really his crowd of people.

From outside, big neon lights spelled out _The Mist_, which seemed suitable for the nightclub that was almost impossible to fin. The building was tall and black, almost blending into its surroundings, but it was obvious to Lance and he wondered why a club of this caliber was set up at the edge of downtown instead of in the middle.

But inside was totally different. The black walls seemed taller than they probably were with neon paint covering a few portions in murals Lance had trouble taking his eyes off. Lights flashed while music pounded and people moved, dancing without a care.

But it was the costumes that rally interested lance.

Everyone from the DJ and the women dancing on poles to the patrons looked like they had come prepared for a Halloween bash. Everyone was dressed in some kind of weird outfit from a mummy with realistic rotting flesh to the gorgon women who had blindfolds over their eyes. It was cooler than anything Lance had ever seen at a club, and he wanted in.

Making his way past the edge of the crowd, Lance tried not to let himself stay too captivated by the different people. A few girls dressed as vampires hissed at each other playfully while a few odd-looking men with grey makeup on moved slowly, like they were made of stone instead of flesh.

Finally stopping at the bar, Lance took a seat and squinted at the menu hanging above the counter. Different drinks with Halloween themed names stood out in different font, all of it looking like it had been handwritten by someone with creative talent. Humming to the song that played Lance tapped his fingers on the counter while looking around. A few seats away, Lance noticed a strangely pale man sipping at what had to be a bloody mary. A very strange looking bloody mary.

“What’ll it be?”

Startled at the voice that cut through the music, Lance found himself speechless at the bartender in front of him. Dark hair with a shock of white in the bangs, sharp eyes that had small crinkles from smiling, and a ragged scar across the man’s nose were entrancing. Lance never felt breathless around someone before, but in that moment he couldn’t find remember how to breathe properly.

“You need a minute?” the man asked, a hint of amusement glinting in his dark eyes.

“No,” Lance said slowly, suddenly finding it in himself to speak, “No, I’m good. What’s in the witches’ brew?”

Smirking, the man began to list off the ingredients, never stopping when the other man slid his finished drink across the counter. Nodding along to what the bartender said, Lance couldn’t help but forget where he was until he realized he was supposed to respond.

“I’ll have one of those,” Lance said, already excited for whatever drink he was going to get.

“I thought you looked like the witch type,” the man commented, moving swiftly to make Lance’s drink, “First time?”

“You could say that,” Lance said easily, contemplating what the man said.

The witch type. From what Lance could tell, everyone here had a costume that they seemed to invest time and energy in. Even the girls wearing stereotypical vampire dresses and overdone makeup seemed committed to what they were wearing and the role they were playing. Compared to everyone else, Lance looked sorely out of place with his khaki jacket and jeans, but he hadn't thought everyone would be dressed so differently.

“Here,” the man said, placing a drink in front of Lance, “Best one I’ve made tonight.”

“You say that to everyone, don’t you?” Lance asked with a smirk, “Does it get you any good tips?”

“Sometimes,” the man commented, wiping down something behind the counter.

“Duh,” Lance said, looking at his drink.

It had been normal before, just like any other alcohol, but now it was smoking and looked like it was bubbling over with smoke and fog. Dry ice. Lance had never seen a dry ice effect in a cup before, but it was amazing.

“Boil boil, toil and trouble,” Lance said with a raise of his glass, taking a tentative sip.

The alcohol went down smoothly, leaving a slight burn in the back of Lance’s throat only to be replaced with a strange aftertaste that reminded him of fruit. Whatever this man made, it was too good.

“You got a name?” Lance asked, keeping an eye on the man, “Or are you just the nameless drink master?”

Smirking at the comment, the bartender said, “I actually like that. The drink master kinda suits me.”

Turning back to his drink, Lance found himself looking back and forth between the different costumes and the bartender. Men who looked wolfish and women with witch hats laughed and talked while different people limped around like they were maimed.

Finishing his drink, Lance shoved a generous tip across the counter to the bartender before saying, “I don’t know if that was the best brew I’ve had, but it wasn’t the worst.”

A smile broke out across the man’s face and tugged at the scarred skin across his nose. If this man was anywhere else, Lance wouldn’t hesitate to pick him up and even now he was resisting the urge to do that.

“Do I get a name to go with that compliment?” the man asked, not bothered by Lance’s teasing remark.

Shrugging, Lance hopped off his stool and adjusted his jacket, suddenly ready to dance and interact with people. Wondering for a brief moment if there was a reason to the Halloween theme, Lance shook it off before turning to face the bartender.

“The name’s Lance.”

* * *

The bartender’s name was Shiro, and his role was a werewolf.

The more Lance frequented _The Mist_ the more he got into the costumes and roles everyone played. It became plain to Lance that everyone had chosen a monster role and stuck with it. Shiro never let up on his werewolf act, the gorgon dancers were horrified when Lance suggested they remove their blindfolds, and a couple vampires had correctly guessed Lance’s blood type by sniffing his arm.

As for Lance, he decided to take Shiro’s assumption and become a witch.

Not a clique one like the women who dressed in long black dresses with pointed hats, but one with a modern spin. It hadn’t taken long for Lance to find different mesh and lace shirts, pants, shorts, and even a few fishnets that all worked together to give him a vibe that screamed he was a magic-user. Coupled with black boots and sneakers depending on the outfit, Lance was comfortable showing off his body and getting to play the part.

“Dude,” Lance said as he sipped his third drink, “You gotta teach me how to make this.”

“Not gonna happen,” Shiro said as he moved around the bar, working on a round of shots to be taken upstairs, “We’re not allowed to share our know-how with customers.”

“How about good customers?” Lance tried with a smile, hoping to get a reaction out of Shiro instead of a drink recipe.

Smiling Shiro shook his head and said, “Not gonna happen. But if you ask Keith how to make a werewolf shot a couple days before the full moon he’ll go off on you.”

Keith. The other bartender who worked the same nights as Shiro and was also a werewolf. The two stated they were a pack and acted more like brothers than coworkers who had to play along with the club’s dress up policy, but where Shiro enjoyed talking with patrons, Keith seemed to hate it and always looked angry. Lance had intentionally made wolf and dog jokes to rile Keith up, always getting the reaction he wanted from the shorter bartender until Shiro stepped in to calm things down.

“Really?” Lance asked, adjusting his crop top as he sat up, “Like, on a scale of new to full moon, how pissed is he gonna be?”

Laughing at the joke, Shiro nodded to the fairy waitress who took the tray of shots he finished before starting a new conversation. While the nightclub had some of the best music and special effects, Lance couldn’t help but stay near the bar just to talk to Shiro. At one point Pidge had called that creepy, but Lance didn’t care too much about what the tech geek thought. Shiro was smart, funny, and genuinely nice to Lance when he didn’t have to.

“Hello you two.”

Looking over his shoulder, Lance couldn’t hold back the smile that crawled across his face at the sight of–

“Hey Allura,” Shiro said, nodding in greeting as he moved fluidly to make the girl’s favorite drink, “How’s the management?”

Rolling her eyes, Allura took a seat next to Lance and said, “Boring. I might fly around in a bit, but I’m honestly bored of looking at all the paperwork.”

Listening to Allura talk about the downsides of being a co-owner of _The Mist_, Lance sipped his witches’ brew and observed Shiro’s behavior. When he first saw the fairy, Allura had been flying around the bar with seemingly invisible wires. Aside from her pink translucent wings, Allura had a pink mark under each of her eyes, drawing attention to the striking blue of them. Even her hair seemed to sparkle with pink glitter, causing the white to stand out against the darkness of her skin and make her the center of attention.

“Lance,” Allura said, looking at him with a smile, “How did your last attempt at potions go?”

Smiling at the fairy, Lance remembered how he had jokingly talked about potions. In reality Lance was just trying different soup recipes to go with Hunk’s dinner ideas, but if he could turn something into a conversation topic to fit in with the rest of the monsters, he was going to take it.

“Pretty good,” Lance said with a smile, “I like how it came out. Whether anyone else says it’ll work, that’s a different story.”

“You’re smart,” Shiro said, handing Allura a shimmering drink, “It’ll work.”

“I agree,” Allura said, watching the purple and pink liquids swirl together in her glass, “Besides, practicing can only yield results. Good or bad, you get to learn from them, that’s the basis of any type of magic.”

Nodding in agreement, Lance listened while Shiro and Allura spoke, adding his own opinion when it was relevant or when he thought something was funny. By the time Allura finished her drink, she was pulling Lance onto the dance floor. Waving at Shiro as he and Allura became lost in the mess of dancers, Lance ducked his head momentarily in an attempt to hide the smile he couldn’t suppress.

In an instant Allura had leaned close to Lance, her lips too close to his ear as she said over the music, “He thinks you’re cute.”

Feeling his face get hot at the comment, Lance tried to convince himself it was an effect of the alcohol.

* * *

“He’s just so hot,” Lance whined as he hugged a pillow to his chest, “It’s like he’s been blessed by the gods.”

Looking up from his laptop, Hunk nodded and commented, “You said that already.”

“But it’s true!” Lance insisted, rolling on his side to look at his friend, “Have you seen the guy?”

Rolling his eyes, Hunk turned his attention back ot the game he was playing while Lance continued to lament. The air outside had a chill to it, and along with the leaves falling and the wind smelling like fall, Lance needed to spend some time with his best friend.

“Why don’t you just ask him out?” Hunk asked, setting his computer aside to give Lance his full attention, “He seems to like you. Just ask for his number.”

Feeling his face flush at the suggestion, Lance shook his head and sat up before stammering, “No way! I can’t do that! He’s working–and I’m not–I can’t interrupt–he’s not supposed to–”

“Lance,” Hunk said firmly, his expression unimpressed, “Do you like him?”

Nodding at the question, Lance said, “I mean, I think so. He’s nice.”

“How many times have you been to that bar?”

Starting to answer, Lance paused and tried to remember. He honestly didn’t know. Every weekend when he wasn’t hanging out with Hunk or Pidge or having time for himself, Lance was at The Mist dancing with Allura and talking for hours with Shiro.

“A lot,” Lance admitted, choosing to give a general answer, “But what does that have to do with–”

“He remembers your name,” Hunk beg, counting on his fingers as he continued his list, “He has your favorite drink memorized, he talks with you, and he laughs at your jokes. He likes your company.”

“You don’t know that,” Lance whined, falling back down dramatically, “He could just be nice! He might do that with everyone. He talks like that with Allura all the time.”

“Allura as in, the Allura who owns the bar?”

“She co-owns it with Mr. Smythe,” Lance said, shrinking back under Hunk’s skeptical gaze, “But yeah. That Allura.”

Crossing his arms, Hunk said, “Ask him out or get his number. It can’t be that hard, just wait for the opportunity.”

Tossing the pillow behind him, Lance shook his head and groaned, “When’s that ever gonna happen?”

* * *

It happened.

“Do you wanna hang out sometime?”

The question threw Lance off guard. First Shiro had insisted on walking Lance to his uber since his shift ended, but now he was asking the same question that had been plaguing the witch cosplayer’s mind for weeks.

“Sure,” Lance said quickly, unwilling to pass up this opportunity, “What works for you?”

Shrugging, Shiro offered his phone to Lance and said, “Text me. We’ll figure something out.”

Lance didn’t hesitate to put his name and number into Shiro’s phone, sending a quick text to himself from the bartender’s phone so he had the contact

Unable to hide his smile, Lance handed Shiro the phone back and said, “I’m up pretty early, but I’ll probably answer any messages at night.”

“I’m a night person,” Shiro said, his dark eyes glinting with the lights on the street, “I just can’t do anything during the full moon.”

They might be outside the club but they were still in costume, so of course they were still in character.

Playing along Lance crossed his arms and asked, “Unless you want me to come over and give you belly rubs?”

“That would actually be nice,” Shiro said, contemplating the idea seriously, “But unless I can get Keith to leave me alone, I’ll have to pass.”

“Of course,” Lance smirked, the cold air doing nothing to diminish the warmth in his chest.

“It’s getting late,” Shiro said, nodding to the uber that pulled up, “I think that’s yours.”

“It is,” Lance said, not hesitating to make sure the information on his phone matched the car in front of him, “Text me later. Or I’ll text you. One way or another you’ll hear from me soon.”

Smiling at Lance’s fast-talking, Shiro nodded and said, “See you later. Stay safe.”

Waving, Lance got into the uber and smiled to himself, the drinks he had making his head feel fuzzy and light. After a few moments of waiting, Lance pulled out his phone and giggled at the text he sent himself from Shiro’s phone before composing a message.

**Lance: ** _Told you I’d text you soon_

Grinning as he sent the text, Lance looked out the windows only for the familiar sound of his notification to draw his attention back down to his phone.

**Shiro: ** _Dork. I’ll be first next time  
_

Nothing kept Lance from smiling for the rest of the ride home.

* * *

“So you have any allergies?” Lance asked, tapping the counter to the beat of the music.

The club wasn’t as busy tonight, but that didn’t stop anyone from going all out an enjoying what there was to offer. As soon as things hit a lull, Shiro took the opportunity to talk with Lance. Besides texting through the week, they still hadn’t decided what to go out and do, but Lance enjoyed getting to know more about Shiro just by talking and joking around.

“He gets cramps when he has chocolate.”

Shaking his head in amusement, Shiro glanced over his shoulder at the other werewolf before saying, “You do too, and you’re lactose intolerant Keith.”

There was something about _The Mist’s_ other ground floor bartender that annoyed Lance. Keith was the only person who had the guts to interrupt Allura when she was talking, talk to Shiro like they weren’t working professionals, and not care what anyone said to him about his attitude. He was one of the most annoying people Lance knew, and he was by far one of the best people to rile up.

“Really,” Lance asked, resting his chin on his hands, “Like how bad? My sister has that. Do you take those lactose enzyme pills?”

“No,” Keith said sharply, his arms crossed over his chest, “I don’t see the point.”

“He forgets,” Shiro said, his words always audible no matter how loud the rest of the club was, “And then he suffers.”

“Shut up!” Keith snapped, his face flushing at Lance’s laughter.

While Shiro was calm and didn’t get worked up too easily, Keith was the exact opposite. Lance had the privilege to witness the werewolf throw a shot glass at a vampire for saying he had fleas. It was a bit over the top for a simple role, but Lance understood how protective Keith was over his monster identity. Even he had gotten defensive over someone suggesting he wasn’t any good as a witch when he couldn’t perform a spell on command.

“Take it easy pup,” Shiro said, fondly ruffling Keith’s already wild hair before smiling at Lance, “New moon’s coming up. He gets antsy.”

“You’re one to talk,” Keith said, not pulling away from Shiro’s friendly touch, “You kept bothering me all night.”

Giving Shiro a quizzical look, Lance tilted his head to the side in hopes he’d be given an answer. He didn’t know much about Shiro and Keith’s werewolf lore, but he was interested and wanted to know what made up their story. The only thing the two really told Lance was that they were in a pack together, and judging by their interactions, Lance guessed Shiro was the alpha wolf.

“New moon is when we can’t transform,” Shiro explained, picking up on Lance’s curiosity, “Full moon is when we have no choice and have to transform. Staying in a human or a wolf form depends on the moon cycles.”

“Okay,” Lance said, nodding along with what he was being told, “So the closer to the new moon, the harder it is to shift, and the closer it gets to the full moon the easier it is. Right?”

“Pretty much,” Keith said, his eyes seeming to glow purple as he scanned the club, “Partial shifts too. Like hearing and sight.”

“You need to practice those,” Shiro commented, already moving to grab a glass for someone, “You got stuck with paws for an hour yesterday because you wouldn’t focus.”

“I did!” Keith insisted, looking to Lance for some kind of support, knowing full well he wasn’t going to get it.

Shifting in his seat, Lance smiled as Allura took her place next to him before asking, “So if I put peanut butter on your nose are you gonna try and lick it off?”

“I dunno, if I throw a bucket of water at you will you melt?”

Gasping and putting a hand to his exposed chest, Lance adjusted his loose jacket before saying, “Harsh Keith. That was harsh.”

Shiro's laughter cut through the noise to laugh at the interaction, causing Lance’s chest to feel light at the sound. Listening to Allura begin to talk about wanting to add a gargoyle girl to the waitstaff, Lance tried to keep his mind from wandering from topic to topic, always finding himself drawn back to Shiro and his explanation on werewolves. It was so simple and yet so detailed that it didn’t sound like it had been made up for a game. Something about it made Lance want to press on and ask more, but something in the back of his mind said that would be annoying and to leave it until another time.

Besides, he had some socializing to do.

* * *

**Shiro:** _ Hey I was wondering if you wanted to go see a movie with me_

**Shiro:** _There’s some animated stuff in theaters if you’re interested_

**Lance:** _That would be great!_

**Lance:** _As long as you don’t mind me talking to myself or making comments_

**Lance:** _ I don’t usually do well in movies that much_

**Shiro:** _If it’s too much to sit still we can do something else_

**Lance: ** _No! No! It’s okay!_

**Lance: ** _I just have a short attention span_

**Shiro:** _ I noticed_

**Shiro:** _ I think it’s cute_

**Lance:** _ Most people find it annoying_

**Shiro: ** _You can go from one thing to another like a chain reaction_

**Shiro: **I_t’s fascinating to watch_

**Lance:** _I really don’t know what to say to that_

**Shiro: ** _How about which movie you want?_

**Shiro:** _And I’m buying the tickets. No arguments_

**Lance:** _That’s fine_

**Lance:** _ I’ll get us some snacks to sneak in_

**Shiro: ** _That’s not allowed???_

**Lance: ** _Duh. That’s why it’s called SNEAKING_

* * *

“I can’t believe you’re actually sneaking candy into a theater,” Shiro said quietly as they made their way into the theater, “This is illegal isn’t it?”

“Nope,” Lance said, making sure to pop the “p” at the end of the word, “My siblings and I do this all the time. Just don’t ask Veronica to smuggle in anything bigger than a KitKat.”

“Why?” Shiro asked, shifting the bucket of popcorn he was holding so he could keep the door open for Lance.

Snickering at the memory, Lance explained, “She tried to bring a two-liter in. Somehow she made it into the theater but it was so shaken up it exploded everywhere.”

Laughing at the story, Shiro followed Lance to the back of the movie theater, the top row empty and perfect for them to sit and joke while the film played. All throughout the previews, Shiro listened and smiled while Lance talked about whatever grabbed his attention, never seeming irritated or even displeased when the topic changed. Lance appreciated that more than he’d ever be able to put into words. Focusing on one thing for too long or being berated for his inability to focus was something he couldn’t take, so having just one person accept that as a part of him and not try to change him was nice. Every now and then Shiro would ask something, or say something that guided Lance back to his original point, but it was never forced or rude.

It was kind.

Just as the actual film started, Lance realized how weird it was seeing Shiro outside the bar, but also how nice it was to see the bartender in a different element. Like most days Lance defaulted to his khaki jacket and jeans, not caring if he didn’t fit his witch role because he wasn’t in the club, while Shiro went above and beyond his expectations. Black jeans and an old NASA shirt beneath a bomber jacket was all Shiro had chosen to wear, but it fit him perfectly and gave Lance a sense of what the man liked.

Grinning as Shiro offered some of his popcorn to him, Lance pulled a package of skittles out of his jacket’s many pockets. Pouring a few into Shiro’s outstretched hand, Lance pocketed the candy and grabbed a handful of the salty buttery treat while he refocused his attention on the creen. To be honest, Lance had no idea what he was watching. He never heard of it before and had no idea if it was going to be any good, but the animation was interesting and the longer he watched the more excited he got to talk to Shiro about the movie.

Finally, like a dam bursting, Lance whispered, “Why don’t more companies use 2D animation anymore? This is just…magical.”

“You’re magical,” Shiro whispered back, not seeming to realize the effect his words had.

A strange shiver ran up Lance back at the same time his face grew hot. He could dish out compliments and flirt any day of the week, but having the same thing directed at him was unbearable. He loved it, but it was something so new and foreign tht Lance wasn’t sure how to respond.

Shiro did.

Without missing a beat, Shiro slid his arm over Lance’s shoulders like it was second nature to him. Leaning into the touch, Lance felt a wave of relaxation and calm wash over him at the contact, enjoying the easiness of just being around Shiro.

The longer the movie went on, the longer Lance wanted to stay tucked under Shiro’s left arm. The first time he actually noticed Shiro’s prosthetic, the black polymer material and silver metal looked so interesting and strange that it took everything in Lance not to reach out and touch it. The prosthetic was an extension of Shiro, just like Abuelo McClain’s wheelchair was an extension of him. It wasn’t a toy to touch, and even though Lance wanted to know what the black material felt like, he resisted and settled for asking how the machine worked.

He had been rewarded with an info dump about the nerves connecting to the arm, giving Shiro some dulled almost muted sense of feeling in the hand, along with an excitement that shone in the bartender’s eyes as he went on to explain the new advancements that were being made. It was all Lance could’ve asked for then, but now getting to be next to Shiro in an almost protected way was even better.

And then the smell happened.

It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t something Lance had anticipated. Something sweet and spicy, but also containing a familiar strong musty scent surrounded Lance and made him feel comforted. At the same time the smell became apparent, Shiro tensed up, his body language giving away that he was nervous about something.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro began quietly, starting to pull away from Lance, “I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine,” Lance said, unwilling to give up this moment, “I like it.”

Even in the dark Lance could read surprise across Shiro’s face as he asked, “Really?”

“Mhmm,” Lance nodded, leaning back into Shiro and resting his head on the man’s shoulder.

Slowly, like he was almost afraid to, Shiro fell back into the position he had been in before whispering, “I thought you didn’t like scenting.”

Lance scrunched up his nose at the comment. Was scenting some kind of cologne? He’d have to ask Pidge, she’d know about it.

Shrugging carelessly, Lance replied, “If it’s you, I like it.”

The deep rumble in Shiro’s chest only affirmed Lance’s statement.

* * *

“You should come with me!” Lance said again, kicking his legs from where he sat on the countertop, “You’d have fun!”

“No,” Hunk said as he slowly pulled his tray of cookies out of the oven, “I’d be miserable and have to deal with you getting shitfaced.”

“I’m not doing that,” Lance said, thinking back to how Shiro knew to cut him off before he got too drunk, “Besides, I’ve been going alone all by myself for a while. I wanna introduce you to Allura and Shiro!”

Making a sound of disapproval, Hunk threw his oven mitts on the stovetop before crossing his arms. It was nearly impossible to get Hunk to go to a nightclub, but Lance wanted his best friend to come at least once. Hunk still hadn’t met Shiro and even though Lance had a good feeling about the man, he wanted the stamp of best friend approval before he did anything past dates and hand holding.

“What’s in it for me?” Hunk asked, his expressions still nervous and uncooperative.

Bargaining was something Hunk rarely did, but most of the time it was easy for Lance to come up with something.

“I’ll make you empanadas whenever you want?” Lance suggested hopefully, knowing his family’s recipe was soemthing Hunk loved but could never get his hands on, “For a month!”

Eyeing Lance skeptically Hunk nodded and added quickly, “Deal, but only if you try my new pumpkin cookies!”

Inhaling the fresh smell of the pastries Lance jumped off the counter and said, “You didn’t even have to ask for that one buddy.”

* * *

“Stop fidgeting,” Lance said, slapping Hunk’s hands away from his shirt, “You’re fine.”

“Are you sure about this?” Hunk asked, looking around at the different costumes and dancers in the club, “I don’t exactly fit in.”

“Neither did I,” Lance said, a smile on his face as he pulled Hunk along towards the bar, “You’ll figure something out, besides I thought you didn’t wanna come back here.”

Convincing Hunk to be the designated driver was easier than Lance had anticipated, especially since the only thing the nervous man cared about was meeting his best frind’s sort-of boyfriend. Hunk wasn’t even wearing anything close to a costume, but Lance didn’t mind too much. Some of _The Mist’s_ patrons looked like they didn’t dress up at all, but Lance did understand his friend’s anxiety over not blending in with the monster dressed crowd.

Shoving Hunk towards the bar, Lance secured two seats close to where Shiro was mixing something up. It didn’t take long for Shiro’s face to light up with a smile as he saw Lance, the expression he was wearing resembling that f an excited puppy or someone struck to the core with joy.

“Lance,” Shiro breathed, his words soft but still reaching Lance’s ears despite the heavy music, “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Lance shot back, smirking as he leaned forward, “Miss me?”

“Every day,” Shiro said, the honesty from his statement making Lance falter a bit.

Looking between Lance and Shiro with a raised eyebrow, Hunk broke through the slight tension by asking, “Should I leave you two alone?”

Jerking to look at his friend, Lance grabbed Hunk’s hand and said, “Shiro this is Hunk, he’s my best friend.”

Nodding at the itntroduction, Shiro offered a smile and said, “Shiro. Lance’s talked about you soe, mostly your baking.”

“And he talks about you all the time,” Hunk said easily, a smile appearing on his still tense face, “I mean, I think he was writing poetry about your ass last night–”

“Hunk!” Lance exclaimed, embarrassed by the dumbed down truth of what his friend was saying.

Snickering Hunk waved his hand like he always did before dropping the subject.

Shaking his head at the two, Shiro looked at Lance and asked, “Witches’ Brew again?”

“Add in a werewolf shot this time,” Lance said with a wink, making a finger gun at Shiro, “I’m feeling it this time.”

As he set to making the drinks, Shiro talked with Hunk and Lance easily, not bothered by the jokes and laughter the two excuded. But things did die down a bit when Keith appeared from wherever he had run off to, a scowl set deep on his face while he muttered angrily under his breath.

“What’s wrong this time?” Lance asked, not sure if Keith was being dramatic or if something was actually wrong.

“Damn vampire spilled her drink on me,” Keith snapped, crossing his arms over his black tshirt, “Ruined my jacket. The bitch didn’t even apologize.”

“Which one?” Lance asked, looking around at few of the tables, “I’ll hex her if it’ll make you feel better.”

“It’s fine,” Keith grumbled, running a hand through his hair, “I’m just…I’m just tired.”

“Full moon’ coming up,” Shiro supplied as he slid Lance’s drinks towards him, “It’s rough. We have to transform, no way around it, but the days leading up to it can be–”

“Shitty,” Keith finished, turning his attention to Hunk, “You want anything?”

“Um,” Hunk swallowed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck, “Do you have anything nonalcoholic?”

“Sure,” Keith said, moving on autopilot, his eyes never leaving Hunk, “What do you like?”

Smiling as his friend dealt with the emo werewolf, Lance tapped the counter to get Shiro’s attention, still amazed that the man could hear him so well.

“Do you like him?” Lance asked, nodding towards Hunk who was laughing at something.

“Yeah,” Shiro smiled, his dark eyes honest and open, “Yeah I do. I can see why you two are friends.”

Perking up at the familiar smell of something sweet and distinctly Shiro, Lance asked, “Is that you?”

“Yes,” Shiro said in an almost shy way, a hint of red tinting his cheeks when the light passed over him, “I want to scent mark you again.”

“Go ahead,” Lance said, not bothered by the desire.

Lance liked Shiro’s smell, and he liked whatever cologne the man used, so it only made sense that he liked having the bartender’s scent linger on his favorite jacket for a few days after their movie theater date.

“Now?” Shiro asked, looking around in surprise.

“When you go on break,” Lance said, “You can dance with me.”

“Yeah ‘Kashi,” Keith said, sliding into the conversation with a smirk, “Go on break. I’ll cover you.”

Not willing to let Keith reneg on his offer, Lance stood up and motioned for Shiro to join him. Grabbing the glowing green werewolf shot, Lance knocked it back, shuddering as the taste lingered and the burn spread from his throat throughout his body, making his fingers warm despite the air conditioner.

“C’mon,” Lance said, grabbing Shiro’s hand as he got closer, pulling him towards the edge of the dancers.

It didn’t take long for Shiros hands to find his hips, the flesh and polymer tracing down Lance’s body like it was something delicate to be treasured. Smirking at the almost teasing gesture, Lance turned to face Shiro, throwing his arms over the man’s shoulders and tilting his head to the side playfully. Like his others, Lance’s shorts and boots were good for showing off the length of his toned legs, but his shirt was what he was exceptionally happy about. Instead of the regular mesh or croptop, it was black lace that had cutouts all over his chest, making his tan skin stand out against the darkness of the material.

Judging by the way Shiro’s fingers traced over each patch of exposed skin, he noticed that too and was making the most of it.

Bringing Lance close, Shiro buried his face in the crook of his neck, breathing deeply before exhaling, letting out a wave of that familiar scent at the same time. Sighing in contentment as the smell hovered around him, Lance made no effort to stop dancing, moving with the lyrics of the music and keeping to the rhythm.

“You’re good,” Shiro said, taking Lance’s hand and spinning him.

“Obviously,” Lance smirked, “My sisters took dance lessons when they were little so I tagged along. Would it surprise you to know I was the best?”

“Not at all,” Shiro said, bringing his lips cloe to Lance’s ear, “It’s something about you that’s really–”

“Sexy?” Lance offered, shivering as Shiro’s breath felt hot against his neck.

“I was going to say neat,” Shiro said, ulling back a bit and smiling, “But sexy works too.”

Dancing was too easy after that. Moving to the music and feeling Shiro by him only made whatever ember in Lance’s chest burn hotter. At one point in a song, Lance felt surprise take over as Shiro pulled him close, letting his hands wander lower than they had before while he kissed the side of the witch’s neck. Lance didn’t let the moment go to waste either, feeling Shiro with one hand while he kept the other secure around the werewolf’s neck, making sure he was exposing his neck for the kisses.

“Did you know,” Shiro breathed, his voice rough and alluring, “That exposing your neck is a sign of submission?”

“Maybe I did,” Lance teased, tracing his finger along Shiro’s collarbone, “Maybe I didn’t. You like?”

“Yes,” Shiro growled, the sound reverberating through Lance’s bones, “Yes Lance.”

They way Shiro said Lance’s name sent a chill down his spine and heat to his–

“Hey,” Hunk said, appearing through the crowd of dancers, There you guys are. Keith said there’s a lot of people t the bar and unless you want me serving stuff, you gotta get back.”

Letting out a small sound of disappointment, Shiro pulled a little bit away from Lance, his eyes downcast and his bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

“I know,” Lance said, running his hand through Shiro’s white fringe, “This was good though. Go save your packmate. We’ll be around for a while.”

Nodding, Shiro began to pull away before changing his mind and pressing a kiss to lance’s temple. The action was sweet and far more gentle than the ones that were left on his neck, and Lance felt butterflies rise in his stomach at it.

As Shiro rejoined Keith at the bar, Lance heard Hunk comment, “Looks like you two needed to get a room after all.”

“Oh shut up Hunk.”

* * *

“I got you something,” Shiro said, releasing Lance’s hand to fish around in his pocket, “I don’t know if you’ll like it but I want you to have it.”

Going to the beach to watch the sunset was something Lance had always wanted to do on a date, but nobody ever humored him once the fall weather set in. Some complained it was getting too cold and that they didn’t want to get in the water, while others didn’t like the idea of getting sand in their shoes and paying the beach parking fee. But when Lance suggested the idea to Shiro, the man lit up with excitement and insisted they had to do it.

Watching the sunset from the pier was one thing, but getting to see how the orange glow of the sun bounced off Shiro’s face and eyes was like a gift Lance didn’t know he wanted. Along with a huge amount of hand-holding throughout the evening and a couple icecreams, all Lance and Shiro did was talk. They talked about Lance’s family, Shiro’s work, what they wanted to do in the future, anything that came to mind.

“Here,” Shiro said, holding up a necklace, “It’s just glass, but I thought it matched your eyes so…yeah”

Staring at the pendant, Lance couldn’t help but wonder what had possessed Shiro to get him something. The glass pendant was small, like it could fit in his hand easily, and almost clear with random streaks and hints of blue spreading like spiderwebs throughout it. The simple necklace hung on a back cord that was tangled around Shiro’s hand, and with the last few rays of sunlight catching the awkward angles it was beautiful.

“Thank you,” Lance breathed, taking the glass gently so as not to drop it, “This is–I just–this is so cool.”

“It’s nothing expensive,” Shiro said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, “But I wanted you to have it.”

“I love it,” Lance said, already slipping the cord over his head and fidgeting with the smooth glass, “C’mon, let’s go walk in the sand.”

Following Lance without hesitation, Shiro slid his hand into the other man’s with ease, like he practiced it a thousand times. Getting on the actual sand, Lance didn’t hesitate in kicking off his sneakers and socks. Shoving the next to a rock a good way away from the water, Lance rolled up his jeans and began to walk around the shore.

“What’re you doing?” Shiro called, slowly taking off his own shoes so he could join Lance, “Did you drop something?”

“Nope!” Lance yelled back, bending down to pick up a shell he found, “Just treasure hunting.”

Picking up a few more shells that caught his eye, Lance smiled at the selection. A few were chipped and incomplete while a couple were just halves of the original shell, but Lance felt like he had struck gold in his findings.

Looking up as Shiro stood next to him, Lance smiled and asked, “Wanna see something cool?”

Nodding, Shiro followed Lance back to their shoes, sitting down on the sand without hesitation. Fishing around in his pocket, Lance pulled out a chain he bought on impulse but didn’t have anything to use it for along with his keys. With practiced hands Lance went to grinding holes in the shells, feeding the chain through them once he was finished.

Holding up the messy seashell necklace, Lance asked, “Want me to put a spell on it?”

While Lance usually dropped his witch act when he was out of the club, Shiro kept it going. It was cute in a way how Shiro always asked if he could “scent” Lance and talked about not being available on the next full moon, so suggesting a simple trick like this was nothing compared to that.

“Please,” Shiro said, watching in amazement as Lance turned the necklace in his hands.

Bringing the chain and shells to his lips, Lance whispered as quietly as he could, “Please protect him.”

Staying quiet for another moment, Lance drew the chain back and offered it to Shiro with a smile. The bartender didn’t hesitate in taking the accessory, fiddling with the clasp before letting the shells rest around his neck.

“I’ve never seen that done before,” Shiro commented, looking at Lance with a hint of amusement, “Do you always do that?”

“My siblings and I did something like that growing up,” Lance said, rocking back and forth to the sound of the waves, “Something to protect, something to heal, all of it meant to help or benefit someone else.”

“You know,” Shiro said, resting his hand atop Lance’s, “Sometimes I wonder if you cast a spell on me.”

Smiling at the contact, Lance twisted so he was leaning into Shiro before saying, “Never. I wouldn’t want to rush this.”

* * *

True to his word, when the night of the full moon hit Shiro was unavailable. Something about the man sticking to his role and not answering any of the messages Lance sent was a bit suspicious, but at the same time it wasn’t a big deal. Lance had taken Hunk and Pidge to a bowling alley downtown for some night time fun before they headed back to their respective homes. It was fun watching Hunk demolish every stack of pins while Pidge scored gutterballs most of the time, especially when the two got caught up in the mathematical trajectory and force needed to knock down the pins.

All in all, it was a good night. The three ate way too much junk food and played two games before deciding it was late enough that they should head out. After a game of rock paper scissors, Hunk lost and was saddled with the responsibility of driving Pidge home. After a quick goodbye and reassuring Hunk he’d be fine, Lance started the walk to his car.

While downtown was nice and interesting with different architecture and buildings, the parking was one of the shittiest things Lance ever witnessed. So with his luck, instead of getting to park in front of the bowling alley like Hunk did, Lance was parked four blocks away on a run-down street.

So when Lance heard a familiar voice, he felt an eerie chill crawl up his arms.

“Lance,” Nyma called enticingly.

It didn’t matter if the woman who dressed as a gorgon was behind him, Lance knew that voice anywhere. He had danced with Nyma a few times too many and heard that her boyfriend the vampire Rolo wasn’t amused by their interactions. Nyma was captivating in many ways, from how her snakelike hair hissed with each of her words, to the way she teased people with her blindfold.

But Lance knew better and didn’t want trouble tonight.

“I’d love to talk Nyma,” Lance said, not pausing in his way to his car, “But I’ve gotta get home. I have a cat to feed and she gets cranky when I miss her dinner time.”

Using Blue as an excuse was low, even for Lance, but he was only two blocks away from his car and something in his body screamed at him to run and not look back at the woman.

“But Lance,” Nyma said again, her words cold and soulless, “I thought we could have some fun.”

“Yeah,” another voice belonging to Rolo said, the man stepping out of the shadows as he spoke, “Quiet a bit of fun. Isn’t that right witch boy?”

Something felt very wrong. Maybe it was how Nyma still wasn’t showing herself or maybe it was the way Rolo seemed to glide toward Lance, but something about the situation was just wrong.

“Can’t swing it tonight guys,” Lance tried, his voice weakening as Rolo leaned into his personal space.

“You know,” Rolo said, his eyes flashing red for a moment as he leaned down to look at Lance, “The first time I smelled you, something about your blood sang to me. It wasn’t like the other witches, theirs is watered down with magic. But yours, yours was thick and rich. The smell has been driving me crazy.”

“Funny how that works,” Lance said, his body frozen under Rolo’s piercing stare, “I need to go.”

“Not yet,” Nyma said, her hand resting on Lance’s shoulder lightly, “We need to…clean somethings up.”

Nodding in agreement, Rolo took another whiff of Lance’s clothes, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he said, “The werewolf. You keep letting him scent mark you. Are you two that close, or does he just find you as interesting as we do?”

Lance’s words caught in his throat. He felt like he had stepped into an ice bath and couldn't do anything but freeze in place. The only thing Lance could feel moving was his heart and how it slammed against his chest with each beat.

“Let’s cut to the chase, hmm?” Nyma asked, something about her voice making Lance scared.

He needed help.

“Are you a witch Lance?” Rolo asked, his finger trailing across Lance’s cheek, “Or are you something else?”

“Yes,” Nyma echoed, her hands sliding down Lance’s waist before settling around his hips, “Are you _human _Lance?”

The way Nyma said the word human made Lance feel sick to his stomach. Whatever these two were playing at, it was scaring Lance and he didn’t know what to do.

“Well?” Rolo asked, leaning closer to Lance’s neck, “Should I test and find out for myself? Witch blood tastes severely different than human blood.”

“Go ahead darling,” Nyma said, something around her beginning to make a hissing sound, “It’s been too long since you fed on a witch or a human.”

Fear spiked in Lance’s chest as he realized they weren’t joking. The light from the streetlights shone on Rolo as he opened his mouth wide, his teeth sharpened and ready to bite down on Lance’s skin.

“I’ll enjoy this,” Rolo whispered, the excitement in his tone obvious, “Now hold still, or I might accidentally kill you.”

Just as Rolo’s fangs brushed Lance’s neck, Nyma’s hand shot out as she hissed, “Stop. Listen.”

Lance did. He strained his ears for some kind of help only to be met with something that was like the rolling of thunder.

But it wasn’t thunder.

From the other end of the street, like shadows from a nightmare, two wolves stepped into the light. Teeth bared, fur bristled, and eyes set on Rolo, Lance, and Nyma like they were the devils incarnate

In an instant Rolo jerked away from Lance, his fangs still bared as he said, “Scenting can only claim him so much! You know marking him would make others desire him.”

The wolves were bigger than the ones Lance had seen on any national geographic or animal planet show. One was pitch black and shaggy, its eyes almost glowing purple as it seemed to wait for orders from the other. The bigger one was black too but had a messy streak of white in its fur across its brow and neck. Lance wasn’t sure what was more terrifying, Rolo sucking his blood out, or the two wolves crouched and ready to kill.

“Besides,” Rolo continued, almost cocky in his behavior, “You went and chose the most defective witch out there. I think that’s enough cause for us to question whether or not he’s good enough.”

If Lance could explain what tension breaking was, it was this. In an instant the bigger wolf with the white let out an angry bark, its eyes flashing silver in the moonlight as it and the other charged forward. Instantly Nyma’s hands left Lance and Rolo disappeared from view as they took off running, the shaggy black wolf bolting after them with snarls emanating from its jaws.

Stumbling back against the solid brick wall of a building, Lance sunk to the ground as shock took ahold of him. His hands shook and his mind was reeling from what just happened. But nothing prepared him for when he looked up and came face to face with the wolf with the white streaking. Lance’s breath caught in his throat and he mentally began to compose a letter of apology to his family for dying without telling them, only for the animal to do something he didn’t expect.

Gently, as if sensing Lance’s fear, the wolf laid down on the sidewalk next to him before letting out a low whine. Swallowing his fear, Lance wondered if he was finally losing his mind as he slowly reached out to touch the wolf. The animal didn’t move at Lance’s touch, instead it seemed to relax and its whines stopped. The wolf’s fur was thick and coarse, but still softer than Lance had expected. Upon closer look, Lance realized the wolf was missing a leg, its front right one, and its body was littered with scars including a long jagged one that ran across its snout.

Continuing to pet the wild animal, Lance whispered, Thank you.”

Lifting its head in response, the wolf looked at Lance with dark eyes that were…familiar. Leaning in, the wolf licked Lance’s cheek gently, its tongue rough and slimy at the same time. Squirming at the sensation, Lance brought his hand up to scratch beneath the wolf’s chin, earning a deep rumble of approval from the canine as he did so. Continuing to scratch the wolf, Lance paused as his hand caught in something around the animal’s neck. Careful so as not to startle the wolf Lance brought his hand around to feel a long chain with a menagerie of seashells on it. The same seashell necklace he had given–

“Shiro?” Lance asked softly, disbelief and wonder plain in his voice as he locked eyes with the wolf.

Tilting its head to the side, the wolf let out a soft whine before resting its head on Lance’s lap, taking a moment to sniff the human’s hands before settling down. A sweet and savory smell filled the area. It was dirtier, more like a dog, but the scent was recognizable and only confirmed Lance’s growing suspicions.

“Shiro.”

* * *

They were real. Everything was real. Going by that logic, Shiro and Keith were werewolves, Allura was a real fairy, everyone in The Mist was a monster and not a cosplayer, and Lance was in deep shit.

Somehow that didn’t scare him.

When he was seven his family went to a haunted house and Lance remembered crying when a zombie jumped out to scare him. But this was different. Shiro didn’t scare Lance, he didn’t even put him on edge. He was kind and sweet, maybe a bit protective, but he looked out for Lance in a way that went above and beyond what a normal person would do.

After the full moon ended Lance had gotten an onslaught of texts from Shiro before a phone call, demanding to know if he was okay and if he was hurt at all. After a few minutes of reassuring Shiro that everything was fine, Lance asked a few questions to try and gauge how much the werewolf knew about him.

It was awkward when Shiro asked why Lance didn’t hex them, making it painfully clear that the werewolf was under the impression he was going out with a witch and not a human. But that was easy enough to fix, all Lance had to do was tell Shiro the truth.

Of course, the truth was never as easy as it sounded.

* * *

“When are you going to tell him?” Keith asked, placing the werewolf shot in front of Lance carefully.

“I don’t know,” Lance said, running his finger along the edge of the shot glass, “Sometime soon.”

It was amazing to Lance how Keith had picked up on him being human after the encounter with Nyma and Rolo, but it ws something else for the younger werewolf not to tell Shiro himself. It was strange how Keith had carefully approached Lance about the information and bluntly asked if it was true that he was human. With the way Nyma and Rolo had been permanently kicked out of _The Mist_ for reasons unknown, Lance didn’t think lying to Keith would do him any favors.

“From personal experience,” Keith said, wiping his hands on his shirt, “I’d do it sooner rather than later. Shiro is forgiving, but sometimes he needs time to understand and process things.”

Nodding in understanding, Lance glanced at Shiro to see how he was doing. Like always Shiro was smiling, interacting with customers like it was as easy as breathing all while mixing and preparing drinks. Something in Lance’s heart melted a bit at the sight and he felt strangely okay with telling Shiro the truth.

“For the record,” Keith said, dragging Lance out of his own thoughts, “I think Allura knew about you for a week. She kept giving me that dumb look.”

“The cute one where she wrinkles her nose?” Lance asked, knowing how the fairy looked when she knew something but didn’t know how to tell anyone else.

“Yeah that one,” Keith snorted, his eyes glinting purple for a moment before he commented, “You’re still wearing his sending stone.”

“A what?” Lance asked, his hand reaching protectively for the glass pendant, “This?”

“Yeah,” Keith said, dropping the towel he was holding to focus on the blue stone Lance held, “We give them to the people we care most about. In times of need or great emotion, they’re supposed to send out some sort of signal so we can come to aid. I guess yours worked or Shiro wouldn’t have called off our rabbit hunt in the woods.”

“Wait,” Lance said, holding up a hand, “How fast are you guys exactly? The woods are a good ways from downtown.”

Shrugging, Keith smirked and said, “Ask Shiro. He cares about that shit. I just like running.”

Looking back at Shiro, Lance felt a surge of joy and peace fill him as he made eye contact with the werewolf.

He would tell him.

* * *

“So what’s up?” Shiro asked, a smile on his face as the moonlight shone down upon him.

It was only a couple of days since Lance had spoken with Keith at _The Mist_ and came to his decision. It wasn’t easy, but it was something Lance wanted to do right. A simple walk through the park had been enough time for Shiro and Lance to fall into their usual banter, and they held hands in an attempt to stave off the fall chill that crept through the trees.

“I have to tell you something,” Lance said, to slowing to a stop, “You might get mad at me, and I don’t blame you but–”

“Lance,” Shiro said gently, giving Lance’s hand a squeeze with his prosthetic, “I can’t promise I won’t be mad, but I do promise I’ll listen to the end. Don’t be nervous.”

Sighing, Lance nodded and inhaled the outdoor scent of autumn. People always told him it was strange how the different seasons had a specific smell, but Lance stood by it. Fall was warm and chilled at the same time, with hints of spice and butter, family and home, and something new he could never put his finger on.

Fall was one of his favorite smells.

“Okay,” Lance said, the nervousness gripping his chest making him feel light-headed, “I’m bad at this so let’s just get to the point. I’m human.”

Lance waited for Shiro’s expression to turn dark and for him to get angry, but all that happened was a look of confusion passed over the werewolf’s face.

Taking that as the signal to continue, Lance said, “I mean, not a witch but like an idiot human. I thought The mist was a cosplay or a roleplay bar and honestly, that sounds so stupid now, but I really didn't know anything was real until that full moon and Keith told me about sending stones and–”

“Lance,” Shiro said calmly, interrupting Lance’s spiraling thoughts, “That’s okay.”

“It is?” Lance asked.

“Well,” Shiro said, his face flushing as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m an idiot for not noticing sooner. But I don’t mind that you’re human”

“So, Lance said carefully, “Are we still…together?”

“If you want to be,” Shiro said, cupping Lance’s cheek, “I would love to be with you. Officially. Everything about you is something I love.”

“You’re sure?” Lance asked cautiously.

He had never really been anyone’s first choice. He was Lance, the fallback, the rebound, and the flirt.

“Positive,” Shiro said, leaning down so his lips were only a breath away from Lance’s, “If you’ll let me.”

Closing the gap between him and Shiro, Lance held onto the werewolf to keep himself standing. If Lance was unsure about the kiss, seeing Shiro’s eyes glow silver and smelling the possessive scent surround him was enough to show him he was wanted and he was loved.

**Author's Note:**

> That's that! I hope you guys liked this! Please check me out as sleepyssnail on both my [tumblr](https://sleepyssnail.tumblr.com/) and my [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/sleepyssnail/) if you want to send me some prompts for writing or edits!


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